


Apex of the World

by mireailles



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-01-30 23:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mireailles/pseuds/mireailles
Summary: Fire Emblem Three Houses AU. Jean attends school in a monastery nestled beside a large mountain range and meets a mysterious student named Armin in his second year. Their meeting sets off a three year mystery where Jean learns the history of Crests and his homeland, Marley in the process.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Kudos: 3





	1. Blue Skies And A Battle

_Part I. _

Crests are a thing of pure mystery, mythology, so when Jean is born with one, his mother constantly regales him with tales of how the Crests came to be. How, the great god, Fritz riding on his divine dragon, Ymir came down from the heavens and blessed a handful of people, all valiant and worthy with Crests. Crests which came in all different forms: one for protection, one that gave you strength than humanly possible. And along with the Crests came the Divine Weapons, which Fritz crafted to banish the three dark dragons who came from a distant land past the mountains, close to the Monastery--which now held the Divine Weapons in the lowest basement or so the rumor goes. 

At twelve, Jean hardly believes in any of these tales anymore, instead, he sees his Crest as a means to an end, so he joins the Church, in hopes of rising from complete poverty to nobility--at the very least, a means to secure a stable future for himself.

There is a larger class this time around, his uncle remarks as he’s helping Jean unload his things from the wagon, because of the new system implemented allowing those without Crests to enroll, though under strict guidelines. Jean quickly befriends the son of one of the priests in the Monastery and two village bumpkins, both on scholarship due to their athleticism. Both bear no Crests. There’s a petite blond girl that catches Jean’s attention but she’s constantly trailed by an ominous looking girl that he’d rather not deal with. 

  
Armin transfers when Jean is in his second year. 

He’s average for the most part, though he knows Armin at least bears a Crest, otherwise they wouldn’t have accepted someone with absolutely no history and in the middle of the term. Armin keeps to himself, shutting himself in the library for hours on end, sitting at the back row in both classes and at the cafeteria, at first Jean thinks it’s weird and writes him off, as does everyone else, except Marco.

Marco is a priest’s son, he bears no Crest and helps mostly with administrative work. Sometimes, he’s allowed to sit in on classes, he and Armin strike up a quick friendship. 

“Yo, what’s the deal with Armin?” Connie asks.

They’re on clean up duty after he and Sasha try to prank Shadis but it ends up backfiring spectacularly on them and as usual, Jean’s caught in the crossfire. Marco stops mid-sweep, as if frozen in fear.

He pauses, then turns around slowly and ushers them all closer. 

“You can’t repeat this to anyone,” he says. “My father and I found him passed out in the forest. He didn’t have any family or anywhere to go, so we took him back to the Monastery with us, gave him some food and gave him a job. That’s what was supposed to happen, however, they gave him a quick physical and discovered--.”

“A Crest?” Connie breathes.

Marco shakes his head. “No, they said it was like a Crest but it wasn’t really---at least not one Doctor Zoe’s ever seen before.”

He finishes by telling them to be nice to Armin, that he’s got no family or friends.

The conversation is dropped and almost forgotten, almost, there’s an assignment that requires them to go to the library. A history paper and as he’s reaching for a book, another, smaller and paler hand reaches for the same volume. He looks over and is taken aback by Armin’s bright blue eyes. 

“Um,” Jean catches himself. “I need this for a project.”

Armin’s eyes flick from the volume on the shelf to Jean, as if trying to decide what to say or do next. His hand grips tighter onto his side of the book. His eyes are wild with fear, enough that Jean lets go and lets his hand drop off to the side. He takes a step back, like he’s ready to bolt if Armin does something crazy.

“We can read it together, if you want,” Armin says.

They end up sharing the book and reading together like Armin offers. Jean is close, so close to Armin that he can smell the lye soap on Armin. He gets self-conscious about it, because he’s just come back from training and probably smells like sweat and dirt but Armin never pipes up about it, never complains about it.

And Jean is afraid to admit how cute Armin looks under the candlelight, how his eyes light up when they read about the Monastery’s history, the decree to create a school for young minds with potential and the construction of it. Armin reads it as if--he’s hearing it for the first time in his life and Jean wonders if it’s possible for even the most isolated villages to never hear of the Church. Connie and Sasha come from rural villages. They came with tales of bustling towns and cities and of course, the Monastery where they train those with Crests.

It’s a few minutes before the final bell chimes when Jean stretches, tired. They’ve gone through a third of the book though Jean suspects that Armin could probably have finished the whole book in one sitting. It’s not that Jean’s a slow reader, part of it is parsing through the information and making notes, the other is going through such small text in the fading light.

Armin’s eyes are still glued to the book. 

“Do you want the book?”

He looks at his notes, it’s not much but Armin looks so enthralled by the book that he can’t bear to take it away from him. Armin blinks, as if walking up from a spell. 

“You can take it, it’s for a project right? So you should have it.”

He closes the book, sliding it over to Jean’s side and before Jean can say anything, Armin’s already packing up his things and walking towards the door. Jean collects his papers, he’s putting the book in his bag when he feels a dent. He turns the book over, sees something that looks like claw marks on one side of the book--the side Armin was holding on to when they’d both reached for it.

  
Jean is awakened by a knock on his door. He stretches, assumes it’s either Marco come to get him for class because he’s late again or Connie panicking over an assignment he’s just realized is due today. He opens the door and has to step back when he realizes his visitor is much smaller (and much closer to the door) than he’s expecting. 

Armin is fiddling with a piece of loose thread from his oversized shirt (possibly borrowed from Marco). 

“I-um,” he starts. “I’d like to see the book, if that’s alright with you.”

Jean rubs the back of his neck. It’s way too early for any of this but there’s at least an hour before the dining hall opens. Part of him thinks Armin must’ve gotten up early knowing this, the other half is convinced it’s a fluke. He sighs, shuffles over so that Armin can squeeze past him into his dorm. He feels a shiver crawl up his spine as Armin’s shoulder bumps into his, Jean shakes it off, probably just woozy from being woken up so early.

Armin perches himself on the edge of Jean’s bed as Jean fishes out the book from his bag. He spreads it on the bed, his desk is too small and currently occupied by various texts and scrolls. He should really get to cleaning it like Marco’s been nagging him too but he’s always dead tired when he gets to his dorm. Armin doesn’t seem to mind, as he flips through the pages, trying to find the place they’d stopped at. 

He manages to convince Armin to get breakfast with him. He looks up at Jean, hands still pressed on the page he’d been reading. He’s got this faraway look, like he’s gazing at the stars on the tops of the Monastery, or parsing through ancient scripture for the first time, overwhelmed, yet fascinated at the same time. But, Jean thinks, it can’t possibly be true, some of the information in the book is common knowledge, even to a lowly commoner. 

  
Jean waves, trying to catch Armin’s attention. 

He’s pushing through a small crowd of people when he looks up and spots Jean, along with Connie, Sasha and Marco. A hush falls over them as the mass begins. They watch as the archbishop slowly rises from his seat to the podium, he begins with the opening hymn, the choir joining him.

As they take their seats, Jean notices Armin hasn’t taken his eyes off the archbishop.

He nudges him with his shoulder.

“Sorry, I was just looking at the glass.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. You can see Ymir in it too.”

“Ymir?”

“The divine dragon King Fritz rode on when he came down from the heavens.”

Armin frowns, like he’s said something strange. 

The archbishop clears his throat, as if trying to catch everyone’s attention. He pushes the spectacles of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, reading the announcements in a monotone voice. Library security has been strengthened to curb the amount of books and tomes going missing, students must report for daily prayer or risk being penalized. 

Jean slouches in his seat, it’s nothing they haven’t heard before, though Marco relays them anything his father hears from the higher ups. The archbishop then calls upon those in the front row to stand, which they do, in unison. Jean blinks, this isn’t something he’s been expecting and neither is Marco apparently, who looks just as surprised.

The front row is occupied by two figures, from just their backs, Jean can tell one is male, the other female. They look about the same age as himself, albeit the male looks a few years older, though not by much. When they turn, Jean’s jaw drops. The man is everything Jean has suspected just from his back, he’s got a bit of a cocky smile, crosses his arms like he’s got business to attend to. He’s got this big brother vibe about him, arrogant with a big heart. But the person beside him, a girl with the most beautiful hair Jean’s ever seen, it’s short but black and silky. Jean finds himself falling in love with her on the spot.

“Reiner and Mikasa will be acting as extra security for the Monastery. Please report any suspicious behaviour to them.”

  
Jean learns many things about Mikasa, though Connie, Sasha and Marco are skeptical.

He’s never said a single word to her except to comment on how beautiful her hair is, which she’d responded with a quick thanks, before falling back in line with Reiner. She wakes up when the bells toll five in the mornings, she patrols the western and southern side of the Monastery. Meaning she’s bound to pass the pond where the students fish and the greenhouse, which, Jean assumes is because she’s into nature. She must be, because at lunch she’s usually by herself, eating near the pond. 

“Why else would she be there? She can be anywhere else on her lunch break.”

Marco half-shrugs, giving that friendly, but skeptical smile. “I dunno, they might’ve told her to stay there for the duration.”

Armin huffs, stabbing his meat with a fork. “You don’t know her Jean.”

“If I can get a chance to talk to her then--.”

Armin stands up and dusts himself off. 

“I’d avoid her if I were you, Jean,” he warns before turning to leave.

  
He wakes up, thinking it’s a normal weekday at the Monastery. 

He goes to class, and jokes around with Connie and Sasha during his breaks. Armin’s become distant for the past few weeks and Jean doesn’t know if it’s because of the whole Mikasa thing, which he’s given up on. But Marco’s also noticed Armin’s become more withdrawn, more erratic. 

“Might be exams,” Marco says.

As he’s following Connie and Sasha to the mess hall, he notices the spot by the pond empty. Jean almost bumps into Connie trying to get a better view of the pond, rippling from a cool breeze but completely bare. He frowns, as Connie swears at him for almost colliding into him.

The bells toll just as Jean’s shoving himself between Sasha and Connie. The door flies open and a blur of a figure -- that Jean barely recognizes as Marco -- winds his way through the crowds of people, leading them outside. Marco slams his hands on their table, completely out of breath.

“You guys need to evacuate now, there’s a dragon approaching the Monastery.”

“You mean a wyvern right?” Connie asks.

There are some tame wyverns out in the stables when they have guard duty. He’s also seen a few of them flying in the distance and sometimes, lounging around in the fields outside of the Monastery. Some of the wild ones tended to be on the bigger side than what Jean’s used to but they’ve all been classified as some type of wyvern. 

Marco shakes his head. “It’s a dragon, I saw it. They’re evacuating everyone to the basements while the soldiers engage it. It came from the forest” 

They clatter down the stairs towards the basement when someone grabs Jean’s arm, pulling him back from the frantic crowd. Connie and Sasha, push past the crowd, trying to reach Jean. Marco’s not there to vouch for them, he’d helped them find their way before leaving towards another building, he’d been asked to evacuate as many people as possible. 

“You have a Crest don’t you?”

Jean swallows hard. “Yes.”

The man nods towards the exit. “Get to the Western Tower, we need you in battle, you understand?”

He looks helplessly to Connie and Sasha still trying to maneuver through the crowd. The man gives Jean a hard shove before Jean breaks into a sprint. The sun almost blinding him. It’s utter chaos as students are shoving past him, staff members interspersed in the crowd, telling everyone to remain calm.

He races to the Western Tower, the strange tower that students -- including him, Connie and Sasha--have heard and spread rumors about. The tower that was always locked as if forbidden and now--now the doors are wide open. Huddled around the entrance are a small group of people, he recognizes a few: Krista and her snarky friend, Ymir. Reiner pokes his head out. He leans against the doorway, panting heavily. 

“It’s all gone,” he says. 

“What d’you mean?” Ymir snaps.

She grabs Reiner’s collar, forcing him to stand. “How’re we killing that thing?”

Reiner puts his hands up. “We have some weapons stored in the training area, I can grab those and get security to run back and fetch steel and silver weapons in the meantime. Dammit, where’s Mikasa?”

Jean moves toward Ymir when Krista puts her arm out, she turns to Reiner. “Reiner, call your men and get them to the ballistas, roll them towards the dragon. Ymir, you’re with me, we’re going to get the bows and spears in the training arena. Jean, grab some men with you and get to the storage area, grab as many weapons as you can carry.”

She nods when she’s finished, grabbing Ymir by the elbow and pulling her towards the training arena. Reiner’s already gathering up his men and heading where the ballistas are located and as Jean’s turning around to round up the remaining students, Connie’s right in his face, puffing and panting with Sasha trailing behind. 

  
He’s only able to keep Sasha and Connie in line. The rest, he’s already told to back Reiner up, they’d fled--where, only the King God Frtiz knows-- but it doesn’t matter because it’s just one dragon. Connie and Sasha are all he really needs to gather up some of the better weapons in the Monastery. 

Sasha smashes open the lockers with a rusted axe. 

“Just grab the bows and arrows,” Jean says. “We’re not gonna be able to face that thing head-on.”

Connie looks at him with absolute skepticism as he reaches for a sword, along with the bows and arrows he’s holding. Sasha grabs as many quivers as she can find and fills them with arrows, she slings the bows around her shoulders, the axe, leaning up against a wall. He takes note of Sasha picking it back up on her way out. 

Silver bows are much heavier than the regular iron and training ones he’s used to and it weighs them all down, except for Sasha who sprints ahead of Jean. Connie’s puffing on his left, still gripping the sword tightly. Jean scowls when he catches a glimpse of the damned thing, if Connie was gonna disregard his advice he could’ve damned well taken up an axe, which he’d mastered just days before.

Sasha stops abruptly, Jean collides head-first into her, the bows on his shoulders clattering at the impact. 

“Fuck,” Connie says as he’s looking up to where Sasha is staring.

There are two dragons flying low in the sky. Jean knows just by looking at them that they aren’t wyverns: they’re larger, almost blotting out the sun with their massive wings: one’s flying frantically, burning everything in it’s path; the other is slower but more deliberate in where it’s aiming, striking down the ballistas. And they’re coloured in a way that Jean’s never seen before, most wyverns are a dirty green colour, he’s heard of some that are pure white. The dragon flying frantically in the sky is black on one side and white on the other. The one flying at a slower pace is pure red. They’ve got massive forearms, which is usually missing on wyverns. 

Sasha flicks one of the bows so it rests comfortably in her hands, then she pulls out an arrow from one of the quivers. She crouches down and glares hard at the red dragon. Releasing the arrow, it connects, the red dragon screeches in pain, hovers mid-air, pulling out the arrow from it’s wing.

“Get going!” Sasha says, eyes still trained on the dragons.

Jean’s got Connie’s hand in a death grip as they take off to the ballistas, when Connie pulls back, stopping completely. He drops the sword.

“What the hell?”

“I gotta stop here,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “You catch up, I’m gonna show those dragons who’s boss!”

He dumps all the bows and quivers of arrows beside him and starts fitting one of the bows with an arrow. 

“You dumbass,” Jean says, walking away from Connie. “Sasha mastered archery! You couldn’t even hit the bull’s eye of a target.”

“Show’s what you know, Jean!”

  
It’s pure chaos in the plaza where the ballistas are equipped. Some are fanning out the flames of a fire close to a ballista, others are carrying out injured men to one of the buildings. Krista’s shouting out orders to the men, marching around, trying to coordinate everyone and everything. 

  
Ymir shoves a steel bow and arrows in Jean’s hands, she nods up at the dragons in the sky, still circling around, breathing fire every once in a while. He nods back, dropping his load on the ground and aims square for the red dragon, circling around, aiming for one of it’s wings when something knocks him down. His vision’s swimming, and when he lifts his head up, he feels the blood rushing. 

“Wait!”

“Take care of Sasha, Connie.”

“Armin, what the hell?”

Even with his blurred vision and smoke from the fire now completely out of control, Jean can still make out Connie with a barely conscious Sasha leaning on his shoulder. He’s stepped right in front of him, just inches from his face, scowling. Then he moves a little further away from Jean, stooping down and putting Sasha to rest right beside him before turning to his left, glaring. He doesn’t make an effort to stand back up. Jean tilts his head a little to where Connie is staring and he sees a bright head of blond hair move past him.

“Armin!” 

Armin stops and starts tugging on the strap of his rucksack. He doesn’t turn around, instead he looks up at the two dragons flying higher and higher in the sky. Jean watches, completely numb as a white light engulfs Armin and in his place, a much smaller dragon, wings tipped with tiny leaves, takes off after them. 

Sasha rises up and aims her bow at the red dragon’s back and the next thing Jean sees is a satchel, full of glowing bows, lances, swords and axes come raining down. The red dragon roars, low and menacing and Jean watches it all play out far too slow for his liking. He watches as it slowly turns itself around and breathes fire in the spot where Sasha’s standing.

Connie manages to roll away before the flames hit him but Sasha is screaming and Jean tries to stand but gets light-headed just from the effort. He tilts this way and that as the world swirls around him in blurs and smoke. He sees Connie take off his shirt and start fanning the flames on Sasha’s body. 

  
The tower basement where everyone has evacuated is blocked by smelted doors. The pathway is completely destroyed, the large walls connecting the tower to the outer-buildings are completely destroyed. In the rubble, they haul out three bodies, one of them Marco’s and Jean’s stomach lurches when he pulls back the tarp covering Marco. Most are accounted for, even the dead but a few are reported missing, among those is Mikasa. They never find her body, Jean considers it a blessing, either she’s got amnesia somewhere far away or she’s one of those whose bodies couldn’t be identified.

Sasha stays in intensive care for two days before she passes away. Both her father and mother come to gather up her belongings, they speak briefly with Connie and Jean before they leave with Sasha’s body, to be buried in her village’s cemetery. Marco’s father takes it the hardest, with only a small compensation for his son’s death and after years’ of service, he buries Marco in the village they’d originally came from, renounces the church and leaves the Monastery to spend the rest of his life in solitude. 

The political fallout is swift and Jean and Connie watch on as idle bystanders. Krista--newly named Historia--is crowned queen, after her father’s death just two days before the attack on the Monastery. She ousts many of the corrupt and greedy nobles from their positions. She also strips the Monastery and archbishop Zackley from his position, centralizing power to the Marleyan capital. 


	2. Chasing Daybreak

_Part II. _

Three years pass since the incident. There aren't any sightings of Armin or any of the other dragons and because of that the authorities wave it off, claiming the attack was nothing but an earthquake. Though, due to Historia’s rule, the Monastery is abandoned. Jean enlists in the military and rises through the ranks, every spot on his jacket decorated.

Connie plops down on Jean's bed, dead tired. He groans as Jean tries to shove him off. 

"He wasn’t there either," Connie mutters.

Jean knows what he's talking about, he also knows it's futile. But he's also been keeping an eye out as well, turning around when the shadow of a tree looks too dark or too big. When there's a noise louder than an echo or a bat in cave. It haunts him and yet, it's not like Connie's pure hatred towards Armin. Sometimes he lies in his bed, thinking about what their reunion would look like. Connie doesn’t wait for Jean to respond, picking himself up and falling asleep, uniform and all on his own bed.

Connie’s missing from his cot.

Jean finds him outside, staring at the mountains in the distance. He doesn’t spare a glance when Jean joins him.

“Hey, do you think it’s true? What the authorities said about the earthquake, I mean.”

“Connie what are you going on about? You were there. You saw them, Armin turning into a dragon. You saw how when we retrieved Marco from the rubble and Sasha—.”

Jean swallows back bile burning in his throat even after all these years, the sight of both Sasha and Marco after they’d recovered them makes him sick to his stomach. Something so inhuman, both unfamiliar and familiar all at once.

“Yeah, I guess. But how did he actually cross that mountain?”

“Connie,” Jean says, exasperated. “He’s a dragon. They’re all dragons, they can fly across a mountain.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Connie repeats. “I keep thinking they’re all just this weird thing I made up in my head.”

Right, Jean thinks, I made up a beautiful, petite boy that turned into a dragon and killed my friends. 

The small village where they’ve been stationed is peaceful.

On crisp, clear mornings, Jean takes his cup of tea outside, so he can take in the view of the mountains, just like Connie had done the first night they’d arrived there. There’s a stream that passes through the village that makes this nice babbling sound. The river probably cuts through the whole valley, to where the Monastery once stood. 

One of the villagers mentions this in passing. Jean knows that the structure of the Monastery has survived, at least before they’d evacuated three years ago, he supposes the damn place is still standing--albeit more damaged from being abandoned. There’s been rumors of bandits roaming the area, enough that the village had requested assistance.

Jean breathes in the steam from his tea, elbows on the railing of the porch. He stares up at the mountain range, blinking in surprise. He can see the twin peaks that he’s seen everyday since he’s arrived and another, it’s jagged, tilts at an odd angle, it’s colouring is different too. Lowering his cup, he squints, realizes the strange craggy thing he’s mistaken for a peak is actually something else entirely.

It takes him another couple of seconds before it completely registers: what he’s looking at is a remnant of the Monastery. If he’s making an estimate, it’s most likely a piece of the cathedral, it’s a gutted arch at the very least. 

He sighs. 

“What’re you looking at?” 

The sound of Connie’s voice almost makes Jean jump, the tea sloshes in its cup. 

Jean nods at the arch. “That’s part of the church, isn’t it?”

Connie blinks. He puts his hands on the railings and leans in, squinting. “Is it?”

“Yeah, at least I think.”

“Huh.”

The day goes as it always does, Jean leads the patrols through the forest and Connie takes point. The men in the village are a little green but they’re getting there, their knowledge of the trails and hunting for a livelihood makes it easier. They’re skilled with bows and hunting knives. 

As he’s knocking back the last of his water from the canister, the villagers scatter around the stream. Most are hiding under the shade of a tree, unpacking their lunches. The sun’s beating down on them. Connie’s crouched down, tearing through a piece of bread. Jean unfurls a piece of cloth, dabs it on his brow. It’s too damn hot to even think about food. 

“Hey didja hear?”

“What now?”

“No it’s real this time I swear! Apparently someone saw smoke coming up from the ruins.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really! And remember? Just yesterday someone reported seeing something large flying in the sky around there. Two even.”

“If you say so.”

Connie stops mid-bite, like he’s frozen in place. Jean stiffens, his hand tight around his handkerchief. There’ve been rumors, so many that Jean’s lost count. The forest near the Monastery is haunted, the ruins are full of treasure--it isn’t, the Divine Weapons were the first to be shipped off to the capital--the dragons that attacked the church still lurked around the area, waiting for someone. Jean knows for sure that Armin and the other two dragons are long gone, far beyond the church. 

The trail leads them about half an hour’s walk away from the ruins. They’re crossing the bridge to circle back around to the village when Jean hears some rustling in the bushes. His hand reaches for the hilt of his sword, the other signals the rest of the men to stop.

Three men bolt through the bushes.

Jean’s hands fly back to the reigns, trying to calm his horse. The men are all crowding around the villagers and Jean barks at them to stay calm. There’s one whose hands are gripping his horse’s bit, his eyes are wild and unfocused. 

“Stop!” Jean screams.

Connie puts his two pinkie fingers in his mouth, giving a loud, shrill whistle that seems to stop everyone in their tracks. The man griping at his horse freezes but he’s shaking violently. He shakes his head, as if trying to clear his mind. When he looks up at Jean, his expression still haggard but calmer.

Connie offers to put on a kettle for them. Someone’s distributed blankets for the three men, shaking violently as if chilled to the bone on a cold winter’s night. One of the men shakes their head, mumbles something about wanting to leave as soon as possible. He pulls the blanket tight against himself.

“It’s real, Jean. They’re real, it wasn’t a dream.”

“Of course, I was there.” 

“No, they’re around here now. I can feel it. But why come back? It’s been over three years now.”

Jean pulls the blanket over his head, turning away from the still lit lamp on Connie’s side. “It might not even be them.”

Connie’s pacing around the room, frantic. He’s already tripped over most of their gear, which they were both too tired to unpack after surveying the forest. The elder had taken pity on the men they’d rescued--thieves actually who’d confessed to looking for hero’s relics around the area, but had ran off after supposedly seeing a dragon.

The elder had shaken his head when he’d heard the confession himself. 

“The Wyverns here can grow pretty big, they probably weren’t used to seeing them that size.”

Jean shifts in his bed, mind still poring over the possibilities. “Go to sleep, Connie.”

Connie grumbles and kicks something over in his frustration and Jean has to fight the urge to get up and see what he’s knocked over. Connie shuffles around, Jean hears something being dropped on the floor and then the lamp on Connie’s dresser goes out. There’s a loud thump as Connie hits the bed, burying himself under the sheets.

Jean lets the minutes trickle by until he hears Connie’s snoring. He takes a breath, counts to three and slowly rises from his bed. The moonlight the only thing lighting their small, rented cabin. Quietly, he shuffles over to where he’d dropped his pack, rummaging through to see if everything’s still there.

Some rope, a small pack of bandages, his lunch tin is empty and so is the canteen, but he can always refill by the well if needed. A hunting dagger gifted by the villagers, and an apple he’d forgotten to eat. Leaning on the doorway is his sword safely in its scabbard, which he gingerly picks up, pack in one hand. He ties the scabbard to his belt. 

His horse is already half asleep when Jean reaches her. He pulls and tugs, trying to shake off the drowsiness. She’s a stubborn old thing but she’s been his since he’s been made captain, he wouldn’t have it any other way. One heavy tug and she pulls herself together, allowing Jean to take her out of the stable and into the night.

He’s passing through the bridge just where they’d encountered the bandits, when he hears shouting from behind him. He pulls on the reigns, his old mare skids to a stop. Maneuvering around, he spots Connie riding up the trail, breathlessly shouting at him.

“You-you sneak!” 

“What are you gonna do if it’s them?”

“I dunno but I need to be there, you know I do.”

Jean sighs as Connie saunters up to him, sticking his chin out as he passes him. Jean overtakes him just before Connie can cross the bridge. The clearing beside the stream where the bandits had appeared gleams in the full moon’s light. Jean looks up, sees the same piece of rubble that he’s seen from their rented house, piercing the night sky and a small trail of black smoke. 

Connie’s hands tighten on the reins as he stares up. Wordlessly, he gets off his horse and ties him to a branch. He pushes his way through the bushes. Jean scrambles, trying to catch up to him. He quickly gets off his mare, tying her right next to Connie’s horse. He’s calling out to Connie hoping he hasn’t gone too far, pushing through the underbrush when he spots him. 

Connie standing perfectly still, sprawled ahead of him are the remains of the cathedral. The archway looms over them ominously. The campfire right beside it casts long shadows as it flickers. Jean puts a hand on Connie’s shoulder before he can bolt. Slowly they descend towards the fire, as if mesmerized. His mouth goes dry, hand still on Connie, vaguely aware that Connie hasn’t pulled away. 

They turn the corner and that’s when they see a hooded figure, staring at the fire, perfectly still.

“Jean,” he says and Jean doesn’t have to guess who it is.

The figure rises, turns to them and pulls back his hood. Jean squeezes Connie’s shoulders tightly, as if trying to stop him from doing whatever he’s been plotting for the past three years.

Armin’s voice is still as soft as it was since the first time he’s spoken to Jean. He’s still as petite as ever, his hair’s cut shorter, and when Jean looks him in the eyes he can see this tiredness, more so than his Monastery days. He turns and tosses more wood into the fire. 

“You must be hungry,” he says nonchalantly. 

Walking over, he fishes out something from his pack and places it in their hands. It looks and feels more like a brick than actual food. Connie tosses it to the ground and points a shaky finger at Armin.

“You think that’ll make things better, Armin? You think you can just appear and act like nothing happened?”

“Connie.”

Jean tries to keep his voice low, because that’s what he’s learned over the years since being promoted to captain, the softer your voice is, the more people assume you’re in control of the situation, even when you’re not. He gets between Armin and Connie, hoping it doesn’t lead to fight, hoping that Armin doesn’t decide to burn them to a crisp. 

“Let Armin finish.”

“Like hell, Sasha and Marco are dead.”

He doesn’t make a move towards Armin, instead he sidles over to Jean’s side, watching Armin carefully, arms crossed. Armin looks down at his hands, starts to wring them nervously.

“I’m sorry about Sasha, the plan was just to grab the weapons and leave. Eren was supposed to create a distraction, that was all.”

“Eren?”

Armin nods, tracing a faint outline in the air. “The black and white dragon you saw that day.”

“I-is he like you? A shapeshifter, I mean.”

Armin sighs. “Yes.”

“Armin, that’s enough.”

A taller shadow stalks through the ruins. Jean and Connie freeze in their spot as the figure slowly becomes clearer, features sharpened by the fire. Jean breathes, Mikasa’s hair is shorter and she’s absolutely menacing as she marches up to them. She puts one hand on her hip.

“This is a waste of time, they won’t help us.”

Armin grabs Jean’s hand. “Please, you have to---to help us, we’re desperate.”

Armin’s hands are sweaty and he feels something sharp poking his palms. His eyes are slits, and his teeth sharp, like looking in the mouth of a wyvern. He wants to pull away, run as far as he can, go back to bed, sleep and pretend it’s all a bad dream. Instead, he takes a breath to calm himself. Armin’s shaking violently, he loosens his grip, knees buckling as he collapses to the ground. Jean grabs him by his shoulders and pulls him close as he starts to sob. Connie sighs loudly from the distance.

It takes a while before Armin calms down, his breath becoming more even and less erratic. Mikasa hovers over them, like she wants to be there for Armin but doesn’t want to come into contact with Jean, when their eyes meet, there’s a strained look, angry but also tired. 

“Eren needs your help.”

“Armin,” Jean says, calmly. “You have to start from the beginning. What’s going on? Why did you come to the monastery? Why did you back after all these years?”

Armin points between the mountains looming in the distance. “Beyond the mountains, there is a kingdom. It’s where I came from, where Mikasa and Eren and I were all born and raised. You remember the tale, right?”

“The one about the great god and founder of Marley, King Fritz?”

Armin nods. 

“It’s wrong,” Mikasa says. “It’s all a lie, Fritz killed and enslaved our people.”

“What?”

“We came from over the mountains, all of us. A place that borders Marley called Paradis, that’s where I’m from--where we’re all from. But this--it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Eren needs help. We need your help, Eren’s eldest brother’s taken up the throne and he plans on wiping out not only Eren, me and Mikasa but all those loyal. He’ll turn his sights to Marley--once he’s conquered everything here.” 

Jean sighs. “What do you need? What did you come here for?”

Mikasa and Armin exchange a look before Armin continues. “I’d like to speak to the one ruling your territory, Zackly?”

Jean shakes his head. “He’s not in power anymore, probably exiled. Krista--err Historia’s taken complete control.”

“Then you’ll take us to see her, won’t you? If you can arrange a meeting with Historia, then we can arrange one with Eren.”

The last curl of smoke rises up into the now blue sky. Jean doesn’t remember falling asleep but he’s sprawled out under a blanket, Connie snoring right beside him. His head is throbbing, like he’s drank too many pints in one go (again) but he has no recollection of drinking or any such thing. 

Jean sits up, glances over at Connie as he turns over, snoring loudly. 

A shadow moves past Jean’s vision, he squints and makes out Armin in a robe, dousing the fire. Armin places the bucket on the ground before dusting himself off. He folds the skirts around his robe, fanning them out to sit down right next to Jean. He turns to face Jean, eyes bright blue under the darkness of the hood. Ominous and almost glowing.

“You have to go back, I’ve heard some of the villagers around here. We’ll meet you at your cabin.”

Jean seizes his wrist. “Armin, be careful.”

Armin looks up in surprise, and Jean works his jaw before he finds his words. “I-it’s dangerous, there. Promise me you’ll be careful when you’re meeting us.”

Armin nods. “Of course.”

“And remember your promise, we’ll need to meet Eren first before Krista.”

Armin hesitates. “Yes, of course.”

Jean nods, he pulls himself up and nudges Connie with his foot. Connie groans, trying to shift himself over, Jean rolls his eyes before pulling off the blanket. Connie shivers, huddling in on himself. His snoring becomes disjointed, he blinks sleepily up at Jean. 

“What the hell?” he rasps out.

Jean nods to their horses. “We gotta move, they’re sending a search party to find us.”

The village elder says nothing when they find Jean and Connie wandering down the path on their horses. Instead, he turns his horse back to the village as if nothing has happened. Though, Jean feels they’re in for a lengthy discussion, he only hopes Connie will follow his lead.

They pass by the cabin both Connie and Jean are renting, cutting through a small grove where the elder’s hut sits. He gives his horse to one of the men that’s already dismounted and watches Jean and Connie sternly. Jean hops off his horse and gives her reins to one of the elder’s attendants, Connie follows suit.

The elder stares at them as if expecting them to start first, Jean clears his throat. “We’re sorry for going missing like that, it won’t happen again.”

“Where in Fritz’s name did you go? We looked everywhere.”

“Uh, we-I just wanted to see the stars, so I took my horse out to one of the fields. Connie went looking for me, when he realized I wasn’t in bed. We must’ve lost track of time.”

The village elder says nothing but turns to look at Connie and Connie nods back furiously, as if corroborating Jean’s story. He sighs, long and hard before dismissing the two of them. 

There’s a strange current in the air after they leave the elder’s house. A villager comes to get them when the sun is high in the sky, asks if they plan on going scouting for bandits, both Connie and Jean exchange a look, before hitching up their horses. All the men are an arm’s length away from them. They trail after them and every once in a while Jean catches them whispering to one another. Connie tightens his grip on the reins every time he catches it. The day ends uneventful, the men all disband to their homes.

Connie is silent as he shucks off his boots and tosses them, hard on the floor. Moonlight is pouring through the open window, it’s a full moon tonight and if he hunches over, he’ll probably get a good view of it. Connie tilts his head, leaning over to the window. Before Jean can say anything, Connie bolts to the window, hands gripping the frame.

Jean rushes over and sees something large, blotting out the moon, flying towards them. It’s not alone either, a smaller shadow trails after it, Jean swallows and gets to the door before Connie can react. Large, red wings beat across the night sky. There’s a gust of wind as it lands in front of the cabin. It adjusts itself, going down on all fours to reveal a rider, his white hair a stark contrast to his dark armour. 

The figure slides off the dragon’s neck, gracefully. He all but stomps his way over to Jean, just behind them, Jean can see a smaller dragon landing, puffing heavily while doing so. 

“So you’re Jean?”


	3. The Long Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X_x I originally meant for this to be two chapters at most but it keeps getting longer, tentatively, let's say that this is the second last chapter and the next one will be the final. I'll probably also do a couple of one shots that serves as an epilogue.

_Part III. _

“Eren,” Armin puffs out in his human form. “You said you’d wait for us.”

The red dragon makes an annoyed noise that’s almost guttural in it’s throat, folds up it’s wings and in a blinding light becomes Mikasa as Jean’s seen her in the Monastery’s ruins. She quickens her pace to stand beside Eren, gently grabbing his bicep.

“You promised us, Eren.”

Eren growls but lets Mikasa pull him back.

Armin turns to Jean and Connie. “This is Eren.”

Jean stares, his eyes fixed on Eren’s unnaturally white hair, curled up in a tight bun. Eyes unnaturally bright and green from where he’s standing. He’s wearing black armor that covers him from head to toe and a large cape seemingly made out of dark-haired furs, trailing the ground.

“Eren, this is Jean and Connie. They’re here to help us.”

Eren snarls angrily and Jean can see sharp, white teeth in perfect rows. Instinctively, he moves so that he’s blocking Eren from Connie. Though, he knows it’s futile, that if Eren changes into a dragon, he could easily rip them both apart or scorch them into ashes, like Mikasa’s already done to Sasha.

“I’m sorry,” Armin says. “He’ll behave, I promise.”

“And what were you expecting?” Connie snaps. “I don’t give a damn about any of this!”

Connie shoves Jean out of the way so that he’s looking Armin square in the face. Armin, to his credit, doesn’t back down. Instead, he steps closer to Connie, like they’re staring each other down. Connie shrugs, throws his hands up in the air like he’s so damn tired of all of this. He stomps back into the house but Jean can tell by the shuffling that he’s within hearing distance. Armin’s shoulders tense up.

“Please,” Armin says, eyes to the ground. “We need to talk to Historia. We need help, you know I wouldn’t go through all this trouble if we weren’t desperate.”

“Fine,” Jean finds himself saying. “Fine, how are we doing this, then Armin?”

“Let us speak to Historia, please. We need another army to back our own. Ours isn’t enough.”

“Armin,” Eren hisses.

“It’s true, Eren,” Mikasa says. “We don’t have enough men or power. Zeke’s got the entire imperial army and a base at his disposal.”

“Alright,” Jean says. “Our contract in this village ends in a week’s time. Connie and I aren’t going anywhere until then. We can take you to the capital if the elder doesn’t renew it. Until then lay low, if you have to visit, don’t fly. It might cause a commotion.”

“That’s all?”

“Let’s go, Eren.”

Mikasa pulls him by the arm, Eren starts moving with her, letting her lead him deeper into the bushes. He never turns around to face Mikasa, glaring at Jean until he and Mikasa are out of sight. Armin bows low.

“We won’t cause you anymore trouble, I promise,” Armin says, breathlessly as he turns around and starts jogging towards where Eren and Mikasa have disappeared to.

There aren’t anymore sightings from Armin, Mikasa or even Eren, just like Armin’s promised. Their time in the village is almost up and when the leader calls them in and decides not to renew their contract for the coming months, it feels like a relief. One that’s not unexpected, considering the lack of criminal activity after Jean and Connie discover Armin and Mikasa in the ruins but still a relief nonetheless.

Armin and Mikasa reappear that night, Eren eerily absent. Connie lingers near the doorway as Jean steps out to meet them. They’re huddled beside each other, cloaks drawn to their bodies. Armin casts a much smaller shadow compared to Mikasa, who is at least a few inches taller. They’ve walked from the outskirts of the village just as Jean has asked.

“Our contract is up, we’ll be moving out in the morning,” he says. “We can take you and Eren to see the queen, but he has to behave himself, you too.”

Though he means both of them, he’s mostly staring at Mikasa. The two shuffle towards each other as if whispering conspiratorially, it makes Jean bristle, for whatever reason. He shifts from one foot to another, one of the horses makes a snorting noise in the distance.

“We accept,” Armin says. “I would want to take the resistance-.”

“No,” Jean says, voice firm. “Just you, Mikasa and Eren. You have to understand you can’t bring whatever army you’ve got to the capital. Historia’s toppled the church, she’s on high alert for those who would oppose her. Come back tomorrow, I’ll take you to the capital then, early morning. Don’t fly, and bring supplies.”

“Fine,” he says, sounding resigned.

He takes Mikasa’s hand before she has any time to react. They disappear just as quickly as they had come and Jean watches them move towards the alleyways in the village. Connie snorts from his spot, still in the doorway. He’s leaning, one foot crossed over on the frame.

“This is a joke, right? You’re not taking them to the capital.”

“Connie, do what you want, I’ll take them there.”

“Historia’s not gonna go for that, Krista, maybe but Historia’s not Krista.”

Jean pinches the bridge of his nose, recalling the one time he’d met with Historia. It was for a bridge, large enough so that carts could cross, they wanted it for convenience, and Jean had met with the carpenter’s, back then it was a little harder to find work so he’d join. The look on her face when they’d shown her the plans, it haunts Jean to this day.

He doesn’t sleep much that night, tossing and turning.

He could very well be committing treason, the thought’s crossed his mind multiple times since meeting Armin. He turns over in his bed and sees the sun peaking through the curtains. He rises up, hand combing through his ruffled hair. Connie gets up right away when Jean touches his shoulder to shake him.

He blinks, looking like he’s been awake all night.

They move through their things quickly, being a seasoned soldier has taught them to pack light but their month in the village leaves them with a lot of things they aren’t really necessary. They pack a few satchels here and there, take the path to the stable for their horses. His mare grunts at the excess weight and he pats her gently, slips her an apple.

Just within view, Jean spots three cloaked figures, with nothing except for satchels slung over their shoulders.

“Your guests,” Connie mouths out.

He ties down the last of his things to his colt. His horse makes a noise as if protesting but Connie just rubs his ears like he’s reassuring him. Jean tosses the smallest figure a look as they’re moving through the bushes.

“We’re here,” Armin says.

Jean takes note of how slowly Eren seems to be moving, lagging behind his friends. Mikasa steps up and stands near Armin. She’s looking at Eren, watching him begrudgingly push through the bushes.

“No horses,” Connie says.

Armin huffs. “We don’t really need that.”

“Calm down, you can’t exactly transform while we’re moving out of the village. It’ll at least be a while. Can you handle that?”

“Yes,” Mikasa says. “We’ve come prepared for that, but as soon as we’re out of sight.”

Jean puts a finger to his lips.

Jean knows he’s made the right choice, leaving when the village is mostly asleep. They’re moving at a ridiculously slow pace with Eren, Mikasa and Armin opting to walk with their things instead of using a horse. They could’ve stolen one, Jean laments but it would’ve caused more trouble than what it was worth.

He stares back at the three lagging behind, has to pull back on the reins to slow his mare down. Connie saunters up to him, looking a little frustrated, he shoots Jean a look, then gives his colt a kick, making him pick up the pace a little ahead of Jean.

When they reach a clearing in the forest, Jean makes a signal to stop. He’s mostly doing it for Armin, Mikasa and Eren as Connie’s already setting up a spot farther down from them. Armin is the first to rush up to him.

“Is it safe?”

Jean nods. “Yeah but like, don’t scare our horses when you do it.”

“Alright, I’ll let Mikasa know.”

A blinding light where Mikasa and Armin are flashes and Jean has to grip the reins of his mare to calm her down. He can hear Connie in the distance trying to get his colt under control. Mikasa barely fits the small clearing in the forest and she starts trampling on the bushes and undergrowth to give her wings space. Armin, on the other hand, stretches out himself without any problem. Jean grips at his mare, as she starts to panic.

He watches Armin turn around and slowly make his way towards him. Jean’s holding tightly onto his horse, he’s got both his arms around her neck. Armin stops and sits down, even being the smallest dragon of the three, he’s still tall enough that he’s towering over Jean and his horse.

“I just wanted them to get used to us,” he says, voice garbled.

“Armin,” Jean says. “What are you?”

“Ah.” He turns to face Jean. “I suppose I never did explain what we were. We’re called laguz. The place we come from is called Paradis, there’s other races too.”

“More shape shifters?” Connie asks, he’s closer than he was before, his horse right beside him.

“Ah, yes. Though, I think your people have mostly seen dragon laguz.”

“What others are there?”

“Well. There’s wolves, lions, and birds.”

Connie exchanges a look with Jean. “But how come we’ve never seen others? I mean--I’ve only really heard of dragons from the Ymir and Divine King Fritz myth.”

Armin sighs. “Beyond the mountains is where Mikasa, Eren and I were born. In that Kingdom, it’s dragon territory. Beyond the northern frigid borders are wolves and the deserts are home to the lions. And the west are birds.”

“Armin.” Mikasa comes up towards them but stops, whether it’s because she’s so massive or because the horses have begun to fidget again, Jean isn’t sure.

She turns to Jean and Connie. “My time at the Monastery and I’d never heard so much lies in my life.”

“During a brief period, our people came to Marley for a little while, they crossed the mountain and made a small settlement further down from the base. Around that time, an adventurer by the name of Fritz came upon the village. He traded goods and services with the people. Over time the village prospered due to Fritz whom they made a leader of the village. He even took a wife among the people, Ymir. She bore him three daughters: Rose, Maria and Sina.”

“The three dark dragons,” Connie murmurs.

“Over time Fritz had become-”

“Corrupted, evil. He began doing experiments and crafting strange weapons with the villagers, Ymir sensed this and took her daughters to the base of the mountain and told them to fly over and never to return.”

“The daughters did return, after years, with an army. They told Fritz that he was to surrender their mother and the rest of the dragon laguz over to them.”

Jean sucks in a breath. “Then the war started.”

The story sounds so bizarre, so unlike how Fritz has been portrayed all the times his mother’s told him stories of Crests, the Divine Weapons and the War of the Three Dark Dragons. Fritz--a hero and a god--now nothing more than a man embellishing his own story for history to remember.

There’s rustling that sets them all on edge, Jean looks over to see Eren slowly coming up. He’s got his hood off, looking apathetic. He glances between Mikasa and Armin and then to Jean. “It doesn’t matter, none of that matters. It happened so long ago. We need to get going quickly.”

“Ah well, I suppose Eren’s right about that.”

Armin bows his head down as if embarrassed. Jean gets a clear look at the leaves that kind of protrude out like horns. They’re translucent, almost, the sun shining right through them. His tail curled around him, leaves on the tips. It’s strange, he looks a bit like a branch from a tree or some other forest creature that hides itself in the underbrush of a forest.

Mikasa on the other hand, looks bright red and solid. A good couple of feet larger than Armin, he can see the sharp scales jutting out of her back, trailing where Jean assumes is her spine.

Walking alongside a dragon in the forest is a little awkward. Everytime Armin gets too near, Jean has to rub the neck of his mare, reassuring her. Armin has Mikasa and Eren on top of him, Mikasa had given up trying to walk through the forest in her dragon form and Armin had leaned over and spread his wings out as if offering her a ride. At first she had declined and walked alongside Eren but then they had both gotten tired and jumped on Armin--packs and all. He walks along slowly, much slower than when he had just his pack. Jean had ridden up and asked if one of them wanted to ride with him on his mare. They’d both regarded him quietly before turning their eyes to the path ahead.

“There’s still a bit of forest left to cover but there’s a clearing the rest of the way. We’ll probably need to camp for the night,” he says.

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Connie says, reluctantly. “It’s a pretty quiet clearing, if you wanted to, you could probably remain transformed.”

He doesn’t turn to face them as he says this. Instead, he’s tying down his horse on a tree branch and starts to unpack his things from his horse. He’s grabbed his sleeping bag and tosses it on the ground, then he rummages through one of the bags and finds a small tin of bread and dried meat.

Jean ties his mare down and begins rummaging around for kindling. Armin’s sniffing around, still in his dragon form, like he’s trying to find a good place to lie down. Eren and Mikasa had leapt off with all of their things, Mikasa holding an extra satchel that Jean assumes is Armin’s. Armin curls himself up, listlessly watching Jean. He breathes heavily, his breath curling into smoke as he breathes out. He bats his tail on the ground, as if frustrated. Jean watches at the edge of his vision, gathering up small pieces of kindling littering the forest floor. But Armin doesn’t move from his spot, just continues staring pensively.

He dumps them right in the middle of their campsite and starts rummaging around his packs for flint when he sees Armin finally rising up. He crouches down and breathes a small spark into the kindling. The fire that starts is an odd colour, whitish and it never quite gets to the orange and red Jean’s used to but it’s warmer, he realizes when he sits down near it.

“It won’t go out until tomorrow morning. Not as strong as my flames but enough,” Mikasa says.

She has her palms up to the flames. Eren’s rummaging through their packs, he tosses those nasty, brick-like things Armin’s tried to serve them the first time they had met. Jean grimaces but the two of them eat it like nothing. Armin’s disappeared into the trees and they see a small flash of light, when he reappears again, it’s in his human form. He collects up the ration as Eren holds it out for him.

The fire rages on even as they’re placing their sleeping bags together. There’s a debate on whether to leave it or let it burn, Jean decides to let it continue through the night. It’s contained enough and there’s no worry of bandits or anyone finding them. So it stays lit, even as it’s staunchest critic, Eren looms over it. His eyes, Jean realizes, even with the fire, is glowing, bright green. Connie looks as though he wants to protest but not really interested in starting another debate, he rolls over, back towards the fire. His colt is already asleep after receiving another apple and munching on the grass.

Jean can already tell by the way his mare’s swaying that she’s fallen asleep too.

Someone is shaking him awake, at first he thinks it’s Connie.

“Go back to sleep, Connie,” he says, shoving the hand off of him.

“It’s me.”

“Oh,” Jean says, turning over sleepily.

He turns over to face Armin, still in his human form, clutching his cloak close to himself. Jean can see claws where his nails should be, long and sharp. If he squints hard enough, he can see Armin’s eyes are glowing, looking a little like slits in the middle. He sits up.

“What did you need?”

He’s scratching his back as he says this and hopes Armin doesn’t notice. Armin tilts his head, to the spot where Jean is scratching himself. Jean pauses, waiting for Armin’s response.

“Y’know,” Jean says, as casually as he can muster. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eren change the whole time he’s been with us.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, of course. He’s--that is--his older brother’s sealed away his power. He’s in between forms.”

“And?”

“Well he’s in between his dragon and human form. But he’s sealed so he can’t change into either. If we can kill Zeke, I believe that will allow him to shift.”

“Ah,” Jean says.

He looks down at the ground, legs bunched up.

“Is Sasha really dead? And Marco?”

“Yeah, dunno if you saw, Mikasa burned her pretty bad. She was in the infirmary for a few days, she passed away.”

“What about Marco?”

Jean sighs. “Marco, a part of a building collapsed on him, he didn’t have a chance.”

Armin crouches down. “I’m sorry, we just needed the weapons, that was all.”

“Armin, what are the Divine Weapons?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself, just from what I’ve learned they’re incredibly powerful weapons crafted by Fritz, enough to fell even the strongest dragon laguz.That’s all I know.”

“Was it to kill the three dark-his daughters?”

“I couldn’t say, I know he enslaved any dragon laguz in his territory.”

There’s a sharp snap of blankets in a far corner and Jean turns, as Eren rises up. Mikasa grunts as he brushes past her, there’s a brief second before she gets up and moves to wherever Eren’s going. It wakes Connie up, he rises, scratching himself sleepily.

Something seems to have triggered Eren and he shows it in everything he does: from the way he gets up and stomps to his pack, chewing aggressively at his rations, staring around the campsite with an angry expression. Mikasa’s right beside him, though, Jean notes, she seems to be hovering over him and distancing herself. Armin hasn’t moved from his spot next to Jean, chewing on his ration, eyes cast downward, not bothering to make eye contact with anyone. Connie, is either oblivious or unaware of the tension as he sets a pot of tea to brew on the fire. Taking a towel to grab the kettle, he gently pours it out into a cup, blows on it and takes a sip.

“Let’s get moving,” Eren says, mouth full of ration.

Jean stuffs some of his bread into his mouth, chewing, Armin stiffens beside him. “You can at least let us finish.”

“Eren, sit,” Mikasa says.

He sighs, sits down heavily, in his spot. He’s staring at the fire again, hand on his knee. This time, Mikasa moves so that she’s right beside him and talks to him softly. He looks like he’s barely listening, barely focusing.

Jean pulls on the reins of his mare, shaking her awake. His bedroll’s tucked under his arm. She snorts, and Jean strokes her neck. Connie’s colt busies itself with the grass beside the trees and Connie’s pulling him away. His colt shakes himself violently but moves to where Connie’s directing him. Armin and Mikasa already changed into his dragon form. He flaps his wings, as if stretching them out, but doesn’t get off the ground. He pads over to the fire, still burning and, back turned, starts to dump dirt on it. Mikasa stretches her giant legs, red and scaly. She’s got Eren on top of her.

Both Armin and Mikasa slow their pace so that they’re way behind Connie and Jean. Jean’s thankful, his mare is less jumpy for it, walking in her usual, lazy, steadfast stride.

Mid-afternoon comes upon them and Jean pulls on the reins of his horse. When she stops, he gets off her. Searching for his rations of bread and cheese, now hard and stale but at least it goes down well with the wine he’s bought from the village. He unscrews the cork and Connie looks up as he’s tearing into bread and salted meat. Jean walks over, bottle and all, pours some into his cup. Eren, Mikasa and Armin are sharing something, and surprisingly it’s not the bar rations he’s seen. It still looks like a bar but the texture looks softer, like a cake.

“Hey,” Jean says and they all turn to look at him. “We’re coming up on the homefront, so stay human.”

Eren grunts, mouth full of that strange cake. Mikasa nods, absently almost as if it were a reflex. Only Armin bothers to give him a reply of, ‘Understood.’ When they pack up, Connie and Jean polishing off the last of their wine, the atmosphere feels different. When Mikasa and Armin had started to pack up, they did so frantically. Even more so than before, Eren standing and watching, eyes completely dull. They pull their cloaks over their heads and Mikasa pulls Eren’s up.

They walk alongside them though more hesitant and watching listlessly as if unsure. Connie keeps looking back, giving them impatient glances because like Jean he just wants to get home. Jean feels the pull too and the weight of the three of them on top. It’s a feeling that makes his stomach churn and the wine in his stomach go sour.

Pushing through the last of the bushes, he sees sunlight and the dusty pathway that leads to the village. His village, though Mikasa, Eren and Armin press themselves up against each other as if protecting themselves from a sudden strong wind. Eyes never leaving the brown outlines of rooftops.

There’s no fanfare as they pass through the crowded marketplace though a few villagers stop and say hi to Connie and sometimes Jean. They abruptly scatter at the sight of Eren, Mikasa and Armin, whispering to themselves as they part ways. Connie turns the corner, lips pursed as he waves to Jean and Jean nods.

His mother is bumbling through the kitchen with what looks like a massive amount of carrots and potatoes, she’s halfway through dumping them in when he barges in.

“Tired, I put the mare in the stables,” he says hurriedly, ushering Eren, Mikasa and Armin to his room.

“Where do you think you’re going with your three guests?” she says, back still turned. 


	4. Indomitable Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It got longer so hopefully next chapter will be the last, hopefully.

_Part IV._

“Jean, you wanted to see me?”

His uncle opens the door and pokes his head in and just as the rumors he’s heard, sees three extra people sitting around the dinner table. They all look up, Jean stands up and shakes his uncle’s hand.

“Nile, sit down,” his mother says.

He takes a seat right next to Jean further away from his three guests. The blond haired one and dark haired woman are staring, the blond more curious but the woman looks annoyed. Nile swallows.

“It’s okay, uncle. They’re not really used to this. This is Armin, Mikasa and in the corner there is Eren.”

He puts his hand up. “Hello, I’m Nile.”

“A pleasure,” Armin says.

“Thank you.”

When the table is cleared, his mother takes the hint to leave. They’re all huddled around a small table meant to fit a family of three at most. Jean breathes, the candle flickers at his breath. Armin stands up, takes out something large from his pack and unfurls it on the table. Nile stares, gives a sharp intake of breath like it’s the first time he’s seen something like this. Jean can’t blame him, he remembers the first night, after he’d given his mother introductions and when they’re all cramming themselves into whatever space they can find for a room. Armin had unfurled the map and Jean was awestruck at how detailed it was. Most were from Paradis where Armin had hailed from but Jean recognizes the smaller territories of Marley--albeit near the Monastery. There are some attempts to piece together the capital and cities of Marley but none as detailed as Paradis.

Armin points to a place marked off called Shingashina. “This is the capital of Paradis, where we came from. As you can see it borders on the mountains to the Monastery. We lived there but were ousted by Zeke, Eren’s brother.”

“We need troops,” Mikasa says, she points to a forest area near the Monastery ruins. “We’ve gathered a small army of people for our cause but not enough to face Zeke. We need more people.”

“And supplies,” Eren chimes in. “It’s not enough that I’ve left my men there, their supplies will need to be restocked. And the Divine Weapons.”

Armin and Mikasa exchange a worried look as Nile whistles. “This--this is a pretty tall order.”

“Can anything be done?” Jean asks.

Nile tilts his head, traces the paths from their village to the forest. “I could see what I can do, but you’ll need to speak to the Queen yourself. I can try and see if I can get you an audience with her.”

He sees his uncle out, as Mikasa and Armin linger nearby. Eren is oddly quiet, he hangs his head like he’s thinking of his next step, he says nothing as Nile puts on his coat and gives them a final wave as he’s walking out the door. Eren quickly retreats to the couch, where he’s taken up residence. He sits on the ground next to the couch and stares intensely. Jean swallows.

“Armin,” Jean whispers, he shakes Armin’s shoulder.

Armin mumbles in his sleep. He opens his eyes and it goes wide when he sees Jean, slowly he sits up. “What is it?”

Jean is crouching down. “Is it safe to trust Eren?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I dunno if it’s a good idea for him to be leading an army--much less a kingdom.”

Armin sighs. “I know what it looks like, but he’s had a lot of hardship. Once things stabilize, I’m sure he will also.”

“Armin, are you sure?”

“He has both me and Mikasa at his side.”

Jean’s heart sinks whether it’s Armin’s affirmation or something else entirely, he’s not sure. He pads back to his room, like the conversation never took place. Perhaps it didn’t, perhaps he’s still sleeping in his room and not thinking about Armin deciding to live far away. It’s a weird grievance.

Because he’s mostly grounded because of Eren, Mikasa and Armin, Jean takes on manual jobs around the village. There’s one that he ends up taking on with Connie, someone has commissioned repairs for a long abandoned shop. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s a hot afternoon and Connie’s swearing like crazy as he hammers his thumb for the third time.

“Watch what you’re doing, asshole.”

“Come again?”

Jean sighs, crawls over to where Connie is. He reaches over and plucks the nail from Connie.

“Like this,” he says.

He places the nail on top of a shingle, gives it a tap to drive it in. “Don’t put too much force, just enough that it sticks in, then you can hammer it down.”

Connie turns around, back to Jean. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Be careful,” Jean says.

There’s a moment of silence before Connie pipes up. “How’s Armin and everyone?”

“They’re fine, I got some things to do before they can meet the Queen.”

Connie grunts, moves to gather up more nails in his palms. He sticks them in between his teeth as he hammers, still aggressive and most likely enough that he’ll stub another finger. Jean winces at the noise and shifts away from Connie. Sweat beading on his temples, he hears someone call his name. At first, he thinks it’s Connie but it’s far too soft and distant. He looks down at the dusty road and sees someone waving at him, he squints and the outline of his uncle becomes clearer.

His uncle waves to him. “I got everything settled, meet me at your house.”

Jean nods, barely registering Connie, fiddling with a nail in his hand. He tilts his head like he’s listening, even though Nile has already started walking towards Jean’s house. And Jean can see the door open and instead of his mother’s light brown hair, he sees a tuft of blond. Nile slips in and the door shuts.

Jean wipes his brow again. “Looks like I’ll have to take a rain check.”

Connie just makes a noise as if he acknowledges what Jean’s said. Jean puts the nails in his satchel and starts to slide down the roof. He’s not really looking where he’s going as he jumps off the ladder and starts to run to his house, almost bumping into someone--someone with black hair and two cute little pigtails. He grabs her as she almost falls back.

“Sorry,” he says.

Nile is gulping down a glass of water as Jean bursts through the door.

“What did Historia say?”

“Easy, nephew. She says she’ll meet with the four of you. She’s sending a carriage to take you to the palace at the end of the week. I’ll be your escort.”

His mother rummages through her and Jean’s closet for clothes.

“Pity there isn’t a tailor’s shop here. Though I suppose folks here aren’t really concerned for all that,” she says as she sticking pins into Jean’s shirt as Armin shifts uncomfortably, wincing as she jams another one uncomfortably close to his waist.

“It’s alright Mrs Kirstein, we’ll make do with what we have.”

In the dining room, Eren sits, with his outfit--his dark armor and black and white furs, staunchly refusing any of their hand-me-downs. Though Mikasa and Armin had tried to get him to see reason, it was one of the many things he’s stood his ground on. Mikasa’s dress, one that’s been modified heavily, is a plain white dress with sharp blue embroidery on the hem. It’s a plain summer dress Mrs Kirschtein had bought in the capital. She twirls around and tugs at certain places as if trying to get comfortable in it.

Mrs Kirstein, mouth full of pins, turns Armin this way and that, instructing him to, “stand still” as she tries to fix up one of Jean’s old shirts and pants. Jean watches from a good distance away, mostly to be out of the line of fire. His mother could be volatile when she was working. There are already pins on his rolled up pants, a small hole that his mother has already stitched together. He remembers when he’d gone out on patrol with that pants and he’d had to stop abruptly, causing a small tear. Jean shakes his head, it’s the first uniform he’s ever worn and it’s still too large for Armin.

“There,” his mother says with finality.

She stands up and takes a step back marvelling at her work. Armin looks down and twists his head so he can see the back of the shirt and pants.

“Thank you so much for this.”

His mother waves her hand. “No worries. I hope you guys get this whole thing done and return home.”

Armin looks down. “I hope so too.”

Nile meets them outside at dawn.

There’s a flurry of movement as they try and get everything packed into the carriage, the driver watches from his spot on top of the carriage completely expressionless. He’s coordinating where everything should go and then, when everything’s packed, he tells them to get inside, that he’ll be sitting up with the driver.

They’re all crammed uncomfortably and Jean is unfortunate enough to have Eren staring right at him on the opposite side. He glares then stares out the window. His mother waves them off.

The capital is a long ways away. It’ll take some time to get there and both his uncle and him are footing the bill for inns, even though Armin and Mikasa had insisted on paying on Eren’s behalf. Jean leans back so much that he’s staring at the roof of the carriage. Armin’s shoulder bumps against his own, last night the three of them had stayed up late with something, Jean could see a bit of candlelight leaking from the crack in his doorway and three shadows looming over something on his dinner table. He’d flinched when he saw the long end of a knife pierce the table.

He’s being shaken, blinking slowly, Jean sees a pale hand shaking him gently. He looks over and sees everyone staring at him, Eren and Mikasa are outside the carriage and his uncle has his hands in his pockets.

“Right,” Jean says. “Right.”

He gets up and stretches his legs. Armin has already taken his things and starts catching up to Eren and Mikasa. He squints, it’s a small tavern on the outskirts. The driver’s been instructed to carry them on routes sure to have villages in the surrounding area. Though they’re told to pay for their food and rent.

Eren, Mikasa and Armin have already clustered around a table in the corner of the room. It’s busy as barmaids move back and forth with order. Jean catches a whiff of food on one of the trays, it smells heavenly and his stomach growls. Nile takes his arm and they move towards where Eren and them are seated. Nile puts his hand up and asks for a couple of roast chickens and some ale. The barmaid nods and moves to the next customer.

The food is all but dumped on the table. The chickens smell delicious and Jean can see some herbs on it’s skin. But he’s more thirsty than anything and downs his ale. It’s frothy but it tastes so good. Armin’s already doling out the plates and Nile is standing up to cut up the chicken. It tastes good.

They’re back on the road without any issue. The carriage plods along and Jean is almost lethargic from the food, he’s half asleep when he sees Eren reach into his cloak. He pulls out a dagger, a fair size and he starts to turn it over as if looking for an answer. Jean tilts his head, blinking. It looks familiar, yet unfamiliar. He squints, and swears the blade has a faint glow to it. He turns away from Eren, peeking outside.

There’s a roadside inn that the driver stops at. He and Nile begin to collect their packs from on top the carriage. The horse is taken in by a stable boy. Who quickly fetches a bucket of oats for the horse.

Both the driver and Nile check in the same room which leaves Jean with Eren, Mikasa and Armin. Though Mikasa volunteers to sleep with Eren, leaving Jean with Armin.

“Armin,” Jean says softly as they’re walking up the stairs.

Armin freezes, he pulls on his satchel tightly. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” Jean says.

“Oh alright.”

Mikasa is waiting for them at the top of the stairs, she and Armin exchange brief and quiet words before he joins Jean in their shared room. As he’s lying on his own bed, he turns over and whispers, “Do really mean to go back to Paradis when it’s all over?”

Armin is fumbling with his shoes. “I mean there’s no other way is there? Without me Eren--well.”

“But if he wasn’t, would you still go back?”

“I don’t know. My mother left her home village and travelled for a bit. I always wanted to do that.”

“Think about it.”

The day they’re due at the castle, it starts to rain, which sours the mood. Though Nile tells them he’s fine, he’s using anything he can to shield himself from the rain, which comes down heavily in the passing minutes. Armin has gone absolutely quiet since the time they spoke that first night. Jean tries not to let it bother him but it’s enough that Eren is watching Jean like a hawk and once, Mikasa had asked Armin if: ‘everything was alright’ and he’d nodded.

The driver grumbles, swears and says something about not being paid enough for this. But they push forward, stop at a tavern when they’re able for lunch which is hurried and Nile sends a silent prayer to the heavens for the storm to clear, except it doesn’t. And when they’re passing the castle gates, Nile barks out orders to open it, even as the rain swells and comes down the streets like a small river.

They’re pushing through the last of the way as the streets are completely empty. He glances at the window, as they’re bouncing around and sees the castle in view. The guards part as Nile yells something at them, thunder rumbling in the distance.

One of the servants that meets them, turns up their nose.

“Marlowe,” Nile says.

Marlowe salutes. “Yes, well. It’d be best to clean up before you see the queen. You’ve got the rest of the night to yourselves.”

“And?”

“And as promised, you will receive dinner and a room. Try not to embarrass yourself in front of the queen.”

“That Marlowe.” Nile shakes his head. “Pay no attention to him, he’s just--patriotic. I’ve got to report to the queen, Marlowe will take you to your rooms.”

“Thanks again uncle.”

Mikasa and Armin nod, grateful, Eren sniffs. He waves to them as he’s moving to another part of the castle, trailing water after him. Marlowe takes them to two separate rooms.

There's a sharp knock at the door. At first Jean turns over, barely remembering what brought him here. There's some shuffling coming from the other bed and the door creaks open. He can hear a conversation with Armin and Mikasa trying to keep quiet but failing and then the door closes, when Jean opens his eyes, he sees Armin's bed is empty.

Another urgent knock at the door, which Jean is tempted to ignore until his uncle asks if he's awake. Nile is briefing Jean as they turn a corner to the soldier's showers. After breakfast, they'll have an hour to prepare themselves before Historia will call for them. Jean shudders, over the three years Historia's become more strict, almost militant. While she's popular with the lower class for abolishing the Crest system and stripping the Church of it's power, among the servants and soldiers, she's harsh and unyielding. Expecting answers to her questions, perfection and discipline, along with sharing her ideals, to those within her inner circle. All things considered, it's worked splendidly.

The showers are cold and he freezes as water runs through the pipes. He reaches for the soap and begins to wash himself. At the very least it’s quiet and just when Jean’s getting used to the water, his uncle tells him to get ready for breakfast. They’re headed down the corridor to the soldier’s common room. Breakfast is whatever the dole out on the plates. Some gooey looking thing that Jean recoils at. He sees Armin, Mikasa and Eren sitting around a table, mostly poking at the bread and ignoring the stew. Armin nods as Jean and Nile take a seat next to them.

“I have drills to attend to,” Nile says hurriedly. “Whatever you need, Marlowe will attend to you but you’re all aware that you have an audience with Historia after breakfast though?”

He looks at them expectantly. They’re all showered and smell better than yesterday, but they’re all in Jean and his mother’s hand me downs.

Armin looks down. “We have things prepared.”

“Good,” Nile says before he picks up his plate. “I wish you luck.”

Marlowe takes them to their rooms first where they all get changed. Armin tries to hide himself in one corner of the room while Jean is on the other. In another room he hears fussing as Eren’s changing his clothes. Armin unfurls the map and gives it a tentative glance before placing it under his arm. He’s got a stack of scrolls. He’s in a plain white robe tied together with a blue sash tied to his waist and plain brown boots. Mikasa comes out in her plain white dress with blue embroidery at the hem. Then Eren with his black armor and long cloak made of thick black furs. Jean changes to his normal commander outfit, the one he’s bestowed for ‘fancy’ occasions as his uncle put it. A black outfit with a red sash, white pants with pure black boots.

Marlowe takes them down a hallway, Jean swallows, feeling a strange chill in the air, though he’s not sure if it’s a draft or the atmosphere. On the ceilings hang Queen Historia’s colors: red and gold. The castle is busy and hectic and while most mind their own business, some stop and stare, mostly maids. Jean’s used to the attention, remembering the times when his uncle took him to the capital, long before he’d married. The nobles would always look down on them because of their clothes and accent.

Marlowe stops by a closed door. “Are you ready?”

Armin adjusts himself, looking at Mikasa and Eren.

There’s a pause before Eren says, “We’re ready.”


End file.
